To Azkaban
by tacticusthe11th
Summary: Harry and Hermione are arrested on bogus charges. Five years later they'r out and forgiveness is the last thing on their minds.
1. Chapter 1

Sirius Black watched sorrowfully as his godson, Harry Potter, and his friend Hermione Granger were led down the streets by aurors, safe in his Animagus form. Harry was being condemned for the murder of Cedric Diggory and Hermione for who her Grandfather was.

All of this had started when Snape had assigned the Fifth years a genealogy potion. It showed you your family tree all the way back to the beginning of your family. For Muggleborns it was short and in plain type. Purebloods and half-bloods would have their family crest show up and the family tree would be written in the handwriting of the first member of their family. This was, of course, after it was poured onto a piece of paper.

Imagine everyone's shock when Hermione's showed up in jagged, angry looking letters. A crest of with a blood red and black checkered background and two bloody long swords crossed behind a spidery looking G. The crest of Hermione's grandfather, Hatherios Grindewald. Harry's had been an even bigger shock, showing that his mother was a cousin of the Gaunts, making Voldemort Harry's great uncle.

Upon seeing their stricken faces Snape had demanded that the two show their family Tree's to the class. The results had been entertaining to say the least.

* * *

"Come on, you insolent little brats. Come up here and show the class your heritage." Snape said in his soft, silky voice.

"Professor, I really don't think-"Hermione was cut off by Draco Malfoy.

"What's the matter Mudblood. Afraid to show everyone your dirty little muggle family!"

"Now Draco," Snape admonished, "It's not nice to tease. Come on Ms. Granger, you have nothing to be ashamed of." Hermione looked around nervously before walking up to the front of the class room. Silently, she handed her scroll to Prof. Snape. The greasy potions professor cast a charm that enlarged the paper and plastered it onto the blackboard.

"Decided to make yours look more interesting, eh Granger. Fifteen points from Gryffindor." Snape turned back to the class only to see Draco gaping at Hermione's Family tree.

"T-That's the crest of the Grindewald family!" He stuttered in fear. Snape whirled around and looked at the parchment more closely. Hermione's head was bowed in shame as the entire class stared at her unabashedly.

"That's enough Snape. Take it down!" Harry said, glaring at the potions professor.

"And why don't we have a look at yours _Potter!_" Snape sneered, flicking his wrist at Harry's parchment. It flew on top of Hermione's and again there was a shocked silence. For there on the board, at the top of the page, stood the proud crest of Slytherin.

* * *

With the Umbridge Bitch in charge of the school the news had gotten to the ministry in a matter of hours. At lunch time that day aurors had arrived and arrested both Harry and Hermione. And the whole time, as the aurors marched them out of the great hall, everyone except the Slytherin table glared at them hatefully.

That had been three days ago. Now the two were being marched through the streets of Diagon Alley. The trial had already taken place and both of the young students had been found guilty. The march through the alley was so that all of the wizarding population could taunt and jeer at the two distraught teen. The trial had been difficult enough for the two of them. Everyone at the school had gone on and on about how they were always going dark and never talked to anyone else. Even the Weasley's had testified, all except for Ron. He and Sirius were the only ones who thought the whole thing was ridiculous. Dumbledore himself had stood up and said how disappointed he was in the two of them.

The eyes of the dog watching the two children being dragged through the streets as wizards and witches thought garbage and refuse at them hardened. With a loud bark he leapt up and ran through the crowd, two small book the size of a mans' palm clamped shut in his jaw. Pushing through the aurors holding back the crowd he tackled the black haired young man, indiscreetly pushing one of the books into his pocket. Tackling the girl next he repeated the process then ran off into the crowd again. The roaring public only cheered harder at seeing the two scapegoats's knocked to the ground. Both of the innocent young people were hauled to their feet and the march continued on.

Harry put his hand over the pocket of the prison robes that he was wearing to feel the book Sirius had placed there. Looking to his left, his eyes connected with Hermione's and they nodded at each other imperceptivity. Straightening their backs and raising their head proudly they marched through the crowds of people to the scheduled apparition point before disappearing along with their auror escort with a loud pop!

* * *

Five Years Later:

Ron Weasley sat in the plush chair in the order of the phoenix meeting room. His feet were up on the mahogany meeting table and his head was leaning back, almost like he was asleep. His robes were worn and looked as though they were well used and he was much thinner than he had been five years ago. Ron's eyes darkened. Five years ago when his tow best friend were sent away to hell and Ron had been left to his own version of purgatory.

Because he hadn't joined in with everyone else in condemning Harry and Hermione Ron's family had turned on him. His mother only cooked for him because she didn't want him to starve to death, and even then the little food he got was on par with what his two best friends were eating. The rest of the family had taken to either cursing him out or beating the living crap out of him.

It wasn't limited to his family either. At school all of the teachers managed to blame him for everything that went wrong in their class except, oddly enough, Snape. His had actually become the most bearable of all. The rest of the Gryffindor house had turned on him, tripping him down the staircases, knocking him over in the hallways, even stunning him in his sleep and leaving him in the forbidden forest.

Having no friends and being kicked off of the Quiditch team (McGonagall's doing) Ron had immersed himself in knowledge. The amount of time that he spent in the library would have put even Hermione to shame. It came as quite a shock to Ron's family as well as most of the school and the order when Ron managed to, after graduating from Hogwarts just three years earlier, get a grand mastery in both Charms and Transfiguration.

He'd begun working in the experimental spell work division of the ministry and in three months had worked his way up to department head, bringing in a hefty salary. Immediately both the order and Ron's family had tried to get close to him again. Ron had definitely enjoyed that day.

Flashback

Ron walked into Grimmauld place and hung his tattered cloak up on the coat rack by the door. Walking tiredly into the kitchen, he pulled out a butterbear from a cabinet and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. Taking a sip, he looked around the empty kitchen curiously, wondering where Sirius was. Shrugging, Ron took another sip and leaned back in the chair.

The far door to the kitchen opened and in walked about half the order, including all of the Weasley's, McGonagall, Flitwick, and of course Dumbledore.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley said, looking at him worriedly, "You look tired dear. Here, you stay there and I'll wip up some food." There were more greetings as everyone sat down around him, smiling happily. Ron stared at all of them in disbelief, butterbear frozen halfway to his lip. Hearing a snort of disgust above all the cheerful chattering, Ron looked back at the doorway and saw Snape leaning on the doorframe with a bemused look on his face. Nodding respectfully at Ron, he turned and strode out of the room.

"Ronald my boy," Dumbledore said, smiling at Ron in his senile old way, "I was wondering if I could interest you in a proposition of mine."

"What exactly is this, _proposition?_" Ron asked, taking another sip of his butterbear and wishing dearly it was firewhisky.

"I was wondering if you would be interested in taking on an assistant Professor position at Hogwarts under either Minerva or Filius here," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling annoyingly. Both Minerva and Flitwick were looking at him with eager smile on their faces. The Weasleys had all stopped talking and were watching the conversation with interest. Ron frowned at all of them.

"No disrespect intended Headmaster, but why would I do that? Both Minerva and Filius here, while experts in their respective fields, only have a mastery in their subject. I have a grand mastery in both," Ron said, glaring at his old head of house as he spoke. There were few fond memories of her or Hogwarts left for him.

"But Ron, my dear, think of the pay increase. Even assistant Professors make one hundred Galleons a month," Mrs. Weasley said, leaning close to Ron as she place a plate of steaming hot food in front of him. Ron looked at all of them and sighed. Pushing away from the table he walked over to another cabinet. Opening it he pulled out an unopened bottle of fifty year old firewhisky. Leaning against the counter, he opened the bottle and took a deep gulp of the fiery liquid, ignoring his mothers disapproving noise.

"So what exactly brought on this change of heart," Ron said, staring at the bottle of liqueur in his hand, "The fact that I've got a better education than everyone in the family, or the fact that I'm now making fifty Galleons a month and my beloved family isn't close enough to me to leech off of me?" At his family's guilty looks Ron nodded and shifted his gaze to the Headmaster and his old teachers. "And you Headmaster? Trying to bring another talented Wizard into your precious order only to realize that you'd thrown me away years ago, eh?" Ron took another swig of his Firewhisky. "You should have picked a better proposition that studying under one of these two. I barely know Flitwick and have little respect for him and as for McGonagall, well," Ron glared at the stern woman again, making her flinch, "I'm on better terms with Deatheaters. Thanks, but I like my current job fine."

"Mr. Weasley, I know the two of us aren't on the best of terms, bu-"McGonagall started, but was interrupted by Ron's harsh, bitter laughter.

"Not on the best of terms?" Ron said incredulously. "Listen you harpy, I'd rather pledge my allegiance to Voldemort than study under some prissy old hag like you. You, along with my loving family here and your entire bloody Gryffindor house made my life a BLOODY LIVING HELL! BECAUSE OF YOU I'M MORE PARANOID THAN MAD-EYE-MOODY! YOU LET YOUR FUCKING HOUSE TORMENT ME FOR TWO AND A HALF YEARS!" Ron had started out calmly enough, but half way through all the old emotions had surfaced. The entire room was shaking as Ron's magic reacted to his anger. He was satisfied to see that his whole family had bowed their head in shame and McGonagall had tears in her eyes. With a snort of disgust, Ron marched out of the kitchen. Grabbing his cloak he marched outside and apparated to his apartment.

End Flashback

Ron looked up as people began to drift into the room. Giving a small shrug at their curious looks, Ron leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He truthfully had no idea why he was here. Ron had never joined the order and the few times that Dumbledore had come to him for help Ron had turned him down.

Finally, after about ten minutes the rest of the order had assembled, only their leader missing. Most of them looked at Ron reproachfully and sat as far away from him as possible. To Ron's surprise the only person that sat next to him was Draco Malfoy. Giving Ron a small nod, the Malfoy heir began looking at the rest of the gathered order with calculating grey eyes.

Finally the double doors to the meeting room opened with a flourish, admitting the Headmaster. The customary twinkle was absent from his blue eyes and the house elves on his bright purple robes seemed to be depressed, even by houself standards. Walking to the head of the table, Dumbledore sat down wearily. He looked every one of his one hundred and sixty years. Ron made eye contact with Sirius briefly before looking back at the Headmaster. What Ron saw in Sirius' eyes startled him.

The animagus' name had been cleared a few months after Harry and Hermione had been sent to Azkaban. Since then he'd spoken to few people and rarely left his home. That in itself was odd because Sirius hated Grimmauld place with a passion. Nobody ever figured out what he had done, but slowly the house had become less dark and creepy and more dark and majestic, becoming what everyone thought a manor of an ancient and noble house like the Blacks should look like.

Now, though, it was very apparent to Ron what Sirius had been doing. The dark, unnatural glow in his eyes had been all the proof that the Young Weasley had needed. Sirius had begun practicing the dark arts, and if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, he'd become fairly proficient in it. Giving his head a small shake, Ron turned his attention to Dumbledore.

"As you all know," the ancient looking man started wearily, "five years ago we sent Harry Potter and Hermione Granger to Azkaban. Many thought that they were just sent there because of their families and in Mr. Potter's case, the murder of Cedric Diggory. What is not common knowledge is that the biggest charge was that of practicing the dark arts. When they were brought in for questioning about their families their wands were tested and showed that said wands had been used extensively for Dark Spells." The Headmaster paused and gave a weary sigh. "This was the only real evidence that was able to convict them. Last night two junior Deatheaters were caught and questioned under veritiserum. When asked what their crimes were they admitted to steeling both Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger's wands and using them for Dark Arts in the hope of getting them in trouble with the ministry."

There were shocked gasps around the room and several people looked ill. Only two people looked pleased. Both Sirius and Ron were giving everyone around them grim smiles.

"We told you so," both Sirius and Ron said in sing song voices. Dumbledore frowned heavily at both of them.

"Now is not the time to be cheeky. Both Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger are being released this afternoon. I'd like a group of their closest friends to go and pick them up and bring them to Hogwarts."

"Well that rules out pretty much everyone in this room," Ron said casually, "and I doubt that either of them our going to want to go back to Hogwarts considering that's were they were arrested and most of the staff testified against them."

"Let's not forget," Sirius said with a sadistic smile, "that Harry still doesn't know about the prophesy or that this illustrious group has decided that he is no longer the chosen one. I'm sure he'll be very pleased to here about that."

"Enough you two!" Dumbledore yelled. "Now is not the time to gloat." Ron cocked his head to the side and gave the old wizard a curious look.

"How is Nevile doing Albus?" the red head asked innocently.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, that is _enough! _How dare you speak to the Headmaster that way?" Molly Weasley yelled.

"Wow, you're yelling at me. _That's _a change of paste." Ron said, rolling his eyes. He ignored the hurt look his mother and the rest of his family got. "Headmaster, truthfully neither you nor anyone else in this room except for Sirius and myself have any right to see those two. If you'll excuse us, we have to go meet them," Ron said casually getting up from his relaxed position in his chair, Sirius mirroring his actions. Both of the order outcasts walked out of the meeting room and disappeared through the front door. Everyone was in a state of shock until Draco and Severus hissed in pain and grabbed their left forearms. Looking around quickly they stormed out and practically ran out the front door, apparating as soon as they cleared the words of Grimmauld Place. The rest of the order looked at their leader for guidance.

"I think, in light of recent events, it's quite obvious where Voldemort is going to attack. We must make our way to Azkaban immediately." Dumbledore said his tone of voice grave. The other order members nodded and quickly rushed out of the meeting room with one person on their mind. Harry Potter.


	2. The Freedom of Crucio's

**Right, i don't own Harry Potter. now that that's out of the way, thank you Airlady, sweetgirl23, marka, Allyanna, c3markh, ghzwoy, xsuicidexkittyx, and Merlins-Wolf for reviewing. it's the first time i've gotten that many reviews that soon, sadly. Anyway, on with the story. **

Sirius and Ron walked quickly up the rocky path to Azkaban. A deep fog clouded the air around them, and the path was only visible a few feet in front of them. Both of the men, however, walked on without a glance at their surroundings. Even the unforgiving fog seemed to part at their presence.

Ron chanced a quick glance at Sirius. They were fast approaching a place that held a lot of bad memories for him, but if it bothered him he didn't show it. In fact, the closer they got to the hellish prison the stronger the Animagus' presence seemed to get. It almost seemed as if he was gaining strength from the inherent darkness that coated the decrepit island. Ron suppressed a shudder and focused back on what had brought him to the isolated island.

If the order knew that Harry and Hermione were getting out of prison then it was a given that Voldemort knew as well. His spies and information networks, while not as widespread as the Order's, were twice as effective. That meant that there was likely going to be a welcoming committee for Ron's two best friends as soon as they were out of the prison. The youngest male Weasley couldn't help but grin at the though. It would definitely be fun to test out some of his spells against Deatheaters. Even in the years after Hogwarts Ron had never been attacked and he was curious how tough the Deatheaters _really _were.

Sirius glanced at Ron and caught his grin. Raising an eyebrow at him, the Animagus turned back to the path and kept walking. It wasn't any of his business what the fiery haired young man was thinking. Besides, he had enough to think about without trying to figure out what Ron found so amusing.

"Do you know any good healing spells?" Ron asked as the two began trudging up a steep hill. Sirius looked at him and nodded shortly.

"I know a few, but we'll need to get them nutrient potions and some basic healing potions soon. Azkaban is not know for it's fine cuisine," Sirius said, his eyes going distant as he relived his stay at the infamous prison.

"You're assuming that they're going to be sane. Five years in Azkaban is a long time, and you know how the Dementors affect Harry. Neither of those two had Animagus forms to protect them," Ron said emotionlessly. Only his stiff posture betrayed how upset he really was.

"Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that. You know how Harry can surprise you," Sirius said, grinning from ear to ear.

"What did you do?" Ron said, a small smile spreading on his face.

"I may have given them a how to guide on Azkaban before they were imprisoned," Sirius said, his grin transforming into a smirk, "You remember how a dog attacked them just before they reached the apparition point?"

"That was you?" Ron said incredulously. "You sly dog. What exactly was in those guides?"

"Oh, this and that. How to become and Animagus, Occlumency, some mild Dark Arts…"

"So, nothing useful huh?" Ron said, grinning.

"Na, nothing that would be particularly helpful." There was a moment of silence before both men burst out laughing. "Hey, I've got a question for you," Sirius said after they had calmed down, "why did you think they were innocent? I mean, your whole family sided against them, why not you?"

"Well," Ron said cautiously, "my family just turned on them because they found out about their heritage. I knew them too well to believe that stupid stereotypes," Ron fell silent and started staring into space.

"That's it? What about the Dark Arts charges? That didn't sway your opinion in any way?" Sirius prodded, looking at Ron expectantly.

"That hardly meant anything to me," Ron said laughing.

"What are you talking about?"

"The charges on the Dark Arts weren't unfounded. If those idiots at the ministry had bothered to check my wand there would have been three arrests instead of two."

"You mean to tell me that the three of you were studying the Dark Arts back in your fifth year?" Sirius asked loudly.

"Yeah, but I haven't done anything with them since Harry and 'Mione were arrested. Too many bad memories and such," Ron said with a shrug. Sirius gave Ron a calculating look.

"You knew about their families before that potions class, didn't you?"

"Of course I did. We did the potion at the beginning of fifth year. It answered why the Dark spells seemed to come easier to the two of them. In their blood and all that rot," Ron answered dismissively. Sirius grinned to himself and the two spent the rest of the walk to the prison in companionable silence.

* * *

Auror Patterson was sitting at the entry desk of Azkaban thoroughly bored. Nothing happened at his posting. Even when the Dark Lord attacked most of the guards were knocked out by the Dementors before any of the dangerous dark wizards and witches could get to them. In fact, it had been almost two years since Patterson had even fired a stunner, much less anything dangerous. So, it was understandable that when the entry doors to Azkaban slammed open and two figures in dark cloaks and hateful expressions on their faces walked in, his reaction was less than heroic. In fact, giving a small squeak and wetting yourself is probably as far from heroic as you can get.

"Don't hurt me! I have a family to look after!" Patterson whimpered. All he got in response was a snort of amusement. That, unfortunately, was enough to make him fall out of his chair.

One of the figures walked around the reception desk and hauled the cowering Auror to his feet, giving Patterson his first look at his 'attackers.' One had long black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and a goatee. His eyes were a strange dark blue that seemed to swirl every now and then like ocean currents. The other was tall and fairly well muscled. His fiery red hair was short and spiked and his brown eyes radiated power and anger. His robes were solid black and threadbare.

"Relax mate," the red head muttered, amusement lacing his voice, "we are just here to retrieve Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. They are being released today, yes?"

"Y-Yes, t-they are. C-c-cell block f-f-fifteen, cells n-nine and t-ten. I'll lead you there," Patterson said, his voice low and quivering.

"That's all right. We can find our own way," the dark haired one said, pulling the key-ring off of the Auror's belt. "Go back to your desk and relax. We'll be back in a few minutes." The man's voice was low and seemed to echo in Patterson's ears. Without even thinking he stood up and walked over to his desk. By the time he came back to his senses the two were halfway down the hall. Before they rounded the corner to the cell blocks he dimly heard the red head say something like 'what's that smell' but they were too far away to be certain.

* * *

"My god, I can't believe he actually wet himself. We aren't that scary are we?" Ron asked laughing.

"Oh, I'm glad you're having fun. I think I stepped in some, and I _know_ he got some on my clothes," Sirius muttered angrily, carefully sniffing the arm of his robes. Without even looking Ron flicked his wand at Sirius casually. The small wet stains on his robes disappeared instantly. Sirius looked at him appraisingly.

"You do know that the magic suppression wards around Azkaban are supposed to make that little bit of spell work impossible, right?"

"I'm a charms Grandmaster. Wards are just a subdivision of charms," Ron shrugged, "also; I looked into a way to circumvent the wards around here recently, figured it might come in handy."

"You mean you were trying to figure out a way to break in and get Harry and Hermione," Sirius said with a smirk on his face. Ron just shrugged again.

"We should be getting close. Where's nine and ten?" Ron asked, looking around the dark and dirty corridor.

"Just up ahead. They were in the same cell block as my cell," Sirius said darkly.

"Weren't you in high security?" Ron asked. When Sirius nodded the red head scowled. "They weren't even convicted for major crimes. What are they doing in high security?"

"Fudge," Sirius said simply as the duo continued walking, "he was trying to look good in the public eye and no one was about to protest-at least anyone who mattered." After a few more minutes of walking they arrived at two cell doors. The six inch by six inch barred window in the doors was just as rusted and filth encrusted as the doors. Sirius pulled out the key-ring and selected one at random. Putting it in the key hole on one of the doors he turned it cautiously. When the locks clicked he turned and gave Ron a victorious smile. "Got it in one try too," he said smugly.

"Just open the damn doors you mutt. I don't want to stay here any longer than is necessary. Voldemort's probably caught wind of their release. I'd rather not have to fight my way off this godforsaken island," Ron bit back, glaring. Sirius' face lost its happy look and he nodded. He opened room ten and moved on to nine. Without waiting for the other cell to be opened Ron strode into cell ten quickly. Looking around the disgusting seven foot by seven foot cell he saw a small pile of robes huddled up in a corner shaking. He walked quickly over to it and knelt beside it, noticing the mane of bushy, matted brown hair just barely visible.

"Hermi-," Hermione's hand shot out of her robes and wrapped around Ron's throat, cutting off his sentence and his air supply. Growling slightly, Ron grabbed her arm tightly. He grew taller and more muscled and his now feral, reptilian eyes glowed slightly in the dark room. Easily, Ron stood up and knocked Hermione against the wall of the cell lightly, making her hand lose its grip. "Hermione, control yourself. We don't have the time for this," Ron said, his voice low and growling.

"Ron?" Hermione said questioningly. Ron nodded and lowered her to the ground gently. As he did his body returned to normal. "What the hell was that Ron?" Hermione asked harshly, "and why are you here?"

"I'll explain _that_ later. As for me being here, what, aren't you happy to see me. I come all the way out here to this abysmal island to pick up my friend after she's cleared of all charges, and all I get as thanks is strangulation?" Ron said, smirking at Hermione. Suddenly Hermione launched herself at Ron and gave him a rib-crushing hug. After a few seconds she stepped back and smirked at Ron.

"Is that better?" she asked innocently.

"Much. C'mon, let's go get Harry and make sure he doesn't give Sirius a similar welcome." Hermione nodded and the two walked out of the cell, Hermione leaning heavily on Ron. What they saw in Harry's cell was not what they expected. Sirius was hovering next to a huddled up version of Harry. His hair was long and covered his face and his bones were visible through his robes he was so skinny. The disturbing part was that he was muttering under his breath rapidly, and didn't seem to acknowledge that anyone else was in the room. Sirius turned to Ron and gave him a slightly lost look. Ron returned it with equal force. Hermione, however, surprised them both.

"You can stop acting Harry. We're being released." Harry stopped rocking and muttering to himself. Standing up slowly, he stretched. As he stretched he grew taller. To about six feet, and became less skinny.

"What's going on 'Mione?" he asked, his eyes still shielded by his hair. "And who are these two?"

"Harry," Hermione admonished, "are you telling me that you don't recognize your fist friend and your own godfather? Oh, the shame, a member of the Slytherin family so easily fooled."

"You tried to kill him when he came in your cell, didn't you 'Mione?" Harry said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Both Sirius and Ron gasped in surprise. They were still the same Avada Kedavra green, but his pupils were snake-like, much similar to Voldemort's.

"Maybe I did. What's it matter anyway," Hermione huffed.

"What happened to the cool control of the Grindewald family 'Mione? _Oh, the shame_," Harry said, laughing to himself.

"We're too late Sirius. They've already lost their sanity. Oh well, let's just throw them back in their cells, not much we can do now," Ron said, sighing dramatically.

"Oye, shut it match head. I'll have you know I'm just as sane as you are," Harry said grinning.

"That's not saying much," Sirius muttered. Ron turned and glared at him.

"Need I remind you that I am the only one here whose stay in Azkaban isn't measured in years," Ron said in his best impersonation of Malfoy. The other three just cuffed him on the back of the head. "People just don't appreciate good humor these days," Ron muttered quietly. "So, are you two good to walk? It's a ways to the edge of the apparition wards?" Ron asked louder.

"We can walk as long as one of you is our crutch," Harry said seriously.

"That would be the mutt here," Ron said, hooking a thumb at Sirius. The dog Animagus just sighed and nodded his consent. Both of the Azkaban ex-prisoners got on either side of him and leaned heavily on his sides. Sirius just sighed and put his arms around their shoulders to help support them. Ron nodded at them and the group began its slow trek through the prison. Just as they were nearing the lobby Sirius stopped walking. The others looked at him questioningly.

"I was just wondering, where are the Dementors? We've been here for a half-hour and we haven't seen a single one."

Ron cursed and pulled out his wand then reached behind his back with his other hand he pulled out another wand. Flicking the one in his right hand at his robes they transformed into a black turtle neck sweater and black slacks. He then turned his business shoes into combat boots. Turning, he pulled open the door to the lobby just in time to see a sickly yellow curse fly through the open front door and hit the Auror they had met earlier. Without pause Ron traced an intricate design in the air with his right wand, shooting a spell at the reception desk. It transformed into a great white wolf, five feet tall at the shoulder. With a roar it leapt out the open door at the unseen attackers. The group walked into the lobby, ignoring the sounds of tearing flesh coming from outside.

Ron looked around the ruined lobby, finally picking up a broken chair leg. He pointed his wand at it and muttered 'portus.' Quickly he thrust it into the hands of Harry, Hermione, and Sirius.

"Take this. The activation word is Dumblefuck. It will take you to my apartment," the red head said quickly.

"We aren't just going to leave you here to fight Deatheaters alone," Harry said in a stony voice.

"Can any of you honestly say you can fight them and win without using Dark Arts?" Ron asked harshly. The other three looked at the ground. "Exactly. If you stay and fight you'll end up right back in Azkaban. I, on the other hand, can fight them without getting a life sentence at the lovely little hotel resort. That's the wonderful thing about spare wands. Now, _go_!"

"Fine, just stay alive. _Dumblefuck_," Harry said angrily. With a brief flash of light he and the other two disappeared. Grinning, Ron turned around slowly, just as two bloodied Deatheaters walked in. Quickly, the transfiguration Grandmaster conjured twelve daggers with one wand and banished them with the other. One Deatheater go out a startled cry before six silver daggers embedded themselves in his body.

Not waiting for more to show up, Ron ran at the door and leapt through it, rolling to his feet just in time to watch three dark, purple curses go careening though the door way. Looking around quickly, Ron saw a large group of Deatheaters taking aim at him.

"_Displodere Corpus!" _Ron yelled before the Deathmunchers could fire a curse. The grey colored spell hit one near the center of their group. He screamed in pain for a brief moment before he exploded, taking his compatriots with him.

"_CRUCIO!_" a female voice bellowed from across the battlefield. Ron rolled out of the way before launching a wordless spell at the feet of his attacker. The rocks at her feet transformed into thick vines that wrapped around her and several nearby Deatheaters.

"**ENOUGH!" **a menacing voice bellowed from across the field. All the Deatheaters stopped and stared at the owner of the voice. Ron, however, brought up both of his wands in defensive positions. A tall, grey skinned man walked across the field towards Ron. His dark, billowing robes and red eyes made it easy to guess his identity. "Most impressive," he said, stopping a few feet away from Ron. "Few wizards could even hold their own against my Deatheaters, much less take out twelve of them without much effort."

"Fourteen actually, more if you count whoever my wolf took out," Ron said smirking. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at him.

"Indeed. And, what is your name, Mr.…."

"Weasley, Ron Weasley," Ron said.

"Well, Mr. Weasley. You're very different from the rest of your family. Give me Potter and I may give you a place by my side." Voldemort said silkily.

"Sorry Tom, but Harry's already gone. We might be interested in another arrangement however," Ron said with a sadistic grin.

"The golden boy of the light and his little friend want and _allegiance_," Voldemort said incredulously, "you don't even know any of the dark arts!"

"I don't know if Harry wants an allegiance or not. I'll have to ask him." Ron said, grinning insanely at the Dark Lord. "As for the dark arts, well… _Crucio Multiplus_!" five jets of red light shot out of Ron's spare wand, hitting five of Voldemort's inner circle. They collapsed onto the ground, screaming in agony. Ron gave them all a mock bow with his arms spread out to the side. Then, with a small pop, he disperated. Voldemort growled to himself in anger.

"Let's leave, Potter isn't here anymore!" the Dark Lord yelled. He touched a silver clasp on his shoulder, activating his portkey and disappearing from Azkaban, his Deatheaters following shortly after him. Two stayed for a moment, staring at Ron's mangled victims in shock. One had grey eyes, the other's black. They shared a quick look before following the rest of Voldemort's servants, leaving only bodies for the Order of the Phoenix to find.

**Read and Review please. the more revies i get the faster i update.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry i took forever to update. oh-well. **

"Three days," Scrimgeour said darkly. "Three days since my most heavily guarded prison was attacked like it was a shop in muggle London. Three days since two innocent convicts, who were the target of the attack, disappeared along with the lord of a noble house and one of the best spellcrafters the ministry has ever had. And in those three days my highly trained Auror's have found nothing of any substance!" the minister glared at all of the Aurors collected in his office. "Can you at least tell me what the hell happened at Azkaban?" The minister seemed to deflate and collapsed in his chair. On the other side of his desk Aurors Tonks, Shaklebolt, Madame Bones, and Forensic Auror Jacen Adams all stared at the minister cautiously.

"From what my people can tell there were a lot of Dark Arts and classic Auror spells being thrown around. That isn't surprising. What is surprising is that around the entrance there was a lot of high level transfiguration being performed, along with a spell we know that Weasley invented several months ago." Adams looked at Scrimgeour questioningly.

"Go on, give me the gory details Adams," the Minister said tiredly.

"Very well sir. There was a very large Dire Wolf that was created. Blood found in its mouth matched that of several suspected Death Eaters. No bodies were found, but we did find traces left by portkeys, so the bodies were probably taken. We found more blood and traces of conjuration farther away from the entrance, probably knives of some sort banished at Death Eaters. The reason we know Weasley was involved is because we found traces of magic left behind by a curse he invented,Displodere Corpus."

"What exactly does this curse do?" Madame Bones asked curiously. Adams gave a look of disgust.

"Weasley created it on accident when he was trying to make a spell to animate golums. It transfigures a part of the body into gunpowder, a muggle invention that explodes, and then compresses it with a huge amount of force. The resulting explosion is directly related to the amount of magic used."

"He created a spell that precise on accident?" Madame Bones asked incredulously.

"That's what is says on the official report. Unofficially, it is widely believed that the Unspeakable's commissioned it for their own use." Adams said.

"Has Mr. Weasley made many spell like this?" Scrimgeour asked a calculating look in his eyes. Adams gave a humorless laugh.

"Weasley has made several hundred spells that are similar to Displodere Corpus. All of the information regarding them was sealed and confiscated by the Unspeakable's."

"Why doesn't it surprise me that the bloody spooks commissioned illegal spells," Schrimgor sighed, looking at the gathered Aurors in his dark and bare office. Their faces looked grim in the flickering light being cast by his fireplace. "Do we have any idea where Weasley and his comrades are hiding?" the lion like man asked briskly.

"Sorry sir," Shaklebolt said quietly, the large Auror's face showing how frustrated he really was. "We haven't been able to find hide or hair of them. There is some suspicion in my squad that they're hiding under a Fideleous Charm."

"It wouldn't be that big of a surprise considering how good Mr. Weasley is at Charms," Madame Bones added, a pensive look on her face.

"So we just have to wait for them to show up then?" Schrimgor yelled, standing up quickly and knocking his expensive leather armchair over. He winced immediately and leaned heavily on his desk to take weight off his bum leg.

"I'm afraid that's exactly what we have to do sir," Adams said with a scowl.

* * *

The Three Fates was one of the many magical taverns scattered around mugle London. The usual mugle repelling wards kept any of the non-magical sort from wandering in. However, its proximity to muggles meant that no pureblood with any self-respect would be caught dead near it, much less having a drink in it. The bar itself was everything that you would expect of a dingy rundown bar. There was a sparse amount of illumination coming from bluebell flames contained in dirty glass lamps hanging from the ceiling. The lighting had earned the bar the nickname 'The Blue Moon.' The owner never really cared, seeing as the flames were cheap and he didn't have to pay a tax to the ministry for them.

Shadowed booths lined all of the walls, with the bar itself located in the center with bar stools all the way along it's oval like shape. A section of the bar had been converted into a mugle dance floor, with music so loud playing that all anyone could really hear was the thumping of the base. It was enough for the frequenters of the bar to use though. While most purebloods would have turned their noses up at such a place, muggleborns had no such problems. In fact, the majority of the crowd at the Three Fates that night was muggleborns with some werewolves, veela's, and other outcasts of the wizarding world mixed in.

Jason Macentosh was the owner as well as the bar tender of the pub. He'd started it fifteen years ago and hadn't had any second thoughts since. Sometimes Aurors would come by to try and give him a hard time, but with the amount of dangerous individuals and creatures in the bar, the ministry thugs never tried too hard.

Jason looked across the sea of jumping and writhing bodies in the bar as his wards alerted him that someone had entered the bar. A few seconds later a beautiful women began working her way across the crowd towards the bar. She was wearing tight leather pants with a black tank top that stopped just above her belly button with a leather jacket over top of it, revealing her pale white skin. Her face had a beautiful, almost aristocratic look to it with dark brown curls framing her face and going down just past her shoulders.

The beautiful temptress stepped up to the bar and roughly pushed one of Jason's patrons off his stool. The man was already so drunk that he just sat on the floor and blinked before passing out. The woman sat down at the stool she'd recently cleared and smiled at Jason. The bartender found himself smiling back while eyeing her cautiously.

"I'll have a double shot of firewhiskey," the woman yelled above the loud thumping from the dance floor. Jason just nodded and went away to get the woman her order. As he was pulling out a bottle of home brewed firewhiskey (Which tasted like piss, but was cheaper than any of the larger, _purer_ brands) Jason heard the crowds quiet to an almost deafening silence. Even the thumping music had become nonexistent. Jason cursed under his breath in gobbledygook and walked back over to the girl he'd been serving, bottle of liqueur in hand.

"My, my Carson, just look at all these filthy mongrels," a drawling high pitched voice said, and Jason sighed. It was Eric Greengrass, a member of one of the lesser branches of the Pure Family of Greengrass. The man was intolerable, even his partner hated him. Finally arriving at his most recent patron Jason stopped and pulled a glass out from underneath the bar and set it in front of the girl. She nodded at him slightly as he filled her glass. Seeing the incredulous looks coming from some of his patrons, Jason smiled. This was the best way to deal with these pureblood idiots, act like they aren't even there.

"And what have we _here?_" Greengrass purred, standing behind the new lady and hissing in her ear. "A nice little Mudblood slut all packaged up and ready to go." The Auror reached around the back of the woman and grabbed her right breast violently. The woman acted so quickly that most of the bar could barely follow her. She grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey off the bar and swung it over her left shoulder, shattering it on the left side of the Auror's head, right in his ear. Greengrass fell to the floor shrieking in pain and clutching the side of his now bloody and shredded face.

"You stupid Mudblood Bitch! I'll fucking kill you!" Greengrass yelled, fumbling for his wand as he jumped to his feet.

"Yeah, that would look great in the headline, wouldn't it? I'm sure the prophet would have a ball with it," the woman paused and calmly took a sip of her drink. "'Hermione Granger killed by racist Auror.' That would make front page news, don't you think?" The girl, Hermione bloody Granger, turned and looked at the now frozen Auror with mild contempt gleaming in her light brown eyes. Just before the idiotic Greengrass could open his mouth, his partner put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed quite hard, if the look on Greengrass' face was anything to go by.

"Eric, shut your fucking mouth before you get both of us killed," Carson Brown said, glancing around the bar nervously. He dragged his dazed partner towards the exit, eyes darting to every person in the bar. The decent Auror threw open the door and through his partner threw it. He turned and regarded the bar for a moment. "Have a nice day," he said at last in a strangled voice, and disappeared through the doorway.

Hermione snorted and shot a glance at the bartender. Jason was staring at Hermione with his mouth open.

"Flies buddy, flies," Hermione, said jokingly. Jason's mouth snapped shut with and audible click. Everyone in the bar started going back to what they were doing earlier, still looking at Hermione with curiosity and a little bit of fear. Hermione grabbed Jason's shoulder as he tried to walk away. "Does that sort of thing happen often around here?"

"More often that not," Jason said with a small shrug.

"And nobody does anything about it?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"What could we do? We're the mongrels of this society. If we even laid a hand on one of the purebloods we'd get the kiss before we could even blink. It's happened before."

Hermione just hummed to herself and shot back the rest of her drink. She looked at Jason and gave a small grin. The bartender gave a small smile back before returning to his patrons. When his back turned Hermione's grin grew big and feral. She held her left and in a fist in front of her face, showing a silver ring on her index finger. The Muggleborn's brow furrowed in concentration and words started flashing across its surface.

_ Situation is worse than original predictions. Subjects are angry and bitter. Perfect for our plans._Hermione dropped her arm and chuckled to herself. She tossed a few galleons on the bar and made her way to the exit. The crowds of the bar gave her a very wide berth.

Stepping out into the cool air, the newly released inmate tilted her head back and sighed. The sounds of muggle London echoed around her. Car horns blared and in the distance the sirens from police cars could be heard. Slightly down the alley that the bars entrance was located in, the sound of a cat rummaging through garbage could be heard, along with the fluent cursing of one very angry little pureblood Auror.

"I swear I'm going to kill that little Mudblood Bitch!" Eric Greengrass hissed.

"You aren't going to do shit!" Brown yelled back at him. "Picking on the mudbloods and mongrels is all well and good, but Granger is loved by the press right now. The wizengamot would do just about anything to stay on her and Potter's good side. You move against her and the minister himself will order your execution."

"I don't ca-," Greengrass' rant was cut short when a bolt of sickly green energy hit his partner in the chest, launching him into the wall at the end of the alley, twenty feet away. The living Auror spun just in time to have two shards of obsidian black rock staple him to the same wall his partner had slammed into, piercing through his shoulders and making his arms useless.

"You so-called purebloods really are quite pathetic, you know that," Granger's voice called out of the shadowed ally. "You two were so busy arguing that you didn't even notice when I put up anti-apparition wards. Or maybe you were just too magically daft to notice." Eric finally saw all of Granger as she walked up to him. The excruciating pain in his arms dulled out by the horror of what he was seeing. Granger looked exactly the same except for her skin. The nice, pale skin from earlier had been replaced by sickly white skin with black veins visible running all through it. Granger's voice snapped his attention to her face, and he couldn't stifle his scream. "Do you know what it was that made my ancestor so feared?" Granger asked, a coy smile on her now dark blue lip. "It was his dementor like ability to remove peoples souls."

Greengrass didn't even register what the wraith like woman was saying. All his attention was on her eyes. Her pupils seemed to draw all the light around them in, but the iris' of her eyes had transformed into a ring of crimson fire, swirling around in circles. Hermione sauntered up to Greengrass' hyperventilating form. She stood on her tiptoes and put her lips right next to the pureblood's ear.

"Nobody touches me Greengrass. Nobody." Eric didn't get a chance to reply as his soul was ripped out of his body. Hermione stepped back from the lifeless husk, holding the small glowing ball that was the man's soul in her right hand. She grinned and pushed her wand held in her left hand into it. An inhuman screech of pain echoed in the deserted alleyway. The glowing ball in her hand turned from an angelic white to a blood red. The screeching stopped, replaced by crazed muttering, to quiet to be understood.

Hermione nodded her head in satisfaction and pushed the defiled soul back into the man's body. She stepped back and took deep, panting breaths. Beads of sweat dripped down her face as her skin and eyes returned to normal. She shook her head to clear her exhausted thoughts and held her ring in front of her face in the same manner she had in the bar. _Mission accomplished _flashed across its surface. Hermione flicked her wand and took down the wards that she had erected. Another flick erased her magical presence. She surveyed the alley one last time before walking out into the streets of muggle London and hailing a cab. Her job was done, now the rest of this was up to Harry and Ron.

**There we go. a new chapter after forever. **


	4. A Brief History of Magic

**Here's the next chapter. not a lot of the actual story, but it set the stage. i don't own harry potter.**

The Aurors hadn't been an effective and just group for many years. Sure, there were a few of the law enforcers that still tried to do what was right, namely Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shaklebolt, and Madam Bones. Some would say that Mad-eye-Moody was also one of these people, but in truth Alastor Moody had stopped caring about the laws a long time ago. Fighting Grindlewald and then Voldemort just a decade or two later had taken its toll on the old fighter. After a certain point he stopped caring about legal and illegal and just paid attention to right and wrong. It was a way of working that had insured that he was never made the Head Auror. But Moody didn't care. He hadn't cared for the past hundred or so years.

Sometimes he cursed the long life span that all wizards and witches shared. Not many of the young folk or muggleborns knew it anymore because it was never taught in schools. The oldest of the wizards and witches had been killed off in the wars with Grindlewald and Voldemort, so no one was there to teach that. The only ones who still remembered how long happened to be the oldest left alive and the old Noble Families. These weren't families like the Malfoys and the Crabbes and Goyles. They had risen in prestige, but the noble families were very different.

The nobles were families that had been knighted or given noble status centuries ago by the two scions of light and dark magic, Emrys Merlin and Morgana Lefey. These were families that had helped bring wizard kind together and make them united all over the world. Long ago the seat of wizard nobility had been located in England, but a series of Dark Lords had erased that prestige, and most knowledge that it ever existed.

Few of the noble families had remained in England as it began to fall. The power vacuum this had created had made room for the rise of the Ministry of Magic. At the time it had been a saving grace for the magical inhabitants of England. The few noble families too stubborn to leave had realized that their time to rule was over and they put their support behind the ministry. The Potters, Blacks, Greengrass, and Longbottom's had been the only noble families to remain and had been loved for it. As time progressed the ministry began to decay and become less efficient. Corruption had begun to run rampant and people were circumventing laws left and right. The four noble houses of England had stepped in once more to help by establishing the Aurors. This had worked for a time, but in the end it hadn't been enough. The Aurors had also been corrupted by time and greedy families hoping to reach the level of the Nobles.

That was when Dark Lords began appearing in England. It's easily avoidable laws manipulative politicians made it the perfect place for a budding dark lord to establish his power base. The Aurors and Noble families fought back as best they could, but this signaled the beginning of the end. The Greengrass and Blacks began to question the purpose of fighting against these supposed Lords. Both families had been among the chosen of Morgana Lefey, the mistress of Darkness herself. The two families decided that when the next Dark Lord appeared they would ally themselves with him. The next Dark Lord to rise, the sixteenth to appear in England, was Grindlewald.

Unlike so many of his predecessors, Grindlewald saw the need to control not only the magical population, but the muggle one as well. Setting out to begin his rule, the new Dark Lord started not in England, but in Germany. He discovered the perfect puppet in Adolph Hitler. All it had taken to help the aspiring dictator was some mind-altering charms at his speeches. Beyond that, Grindlewald focused very little attention on the future ruler of Germany. Instead he focused on gaining support in Magical Germany. Like his muggle puppet, Grindlewald was a charismatic speaker and soon had enthralled a large portion of the German witches and wizards. When he turned his attention back to his muggle puppet he was delighted to discover the mayhem he had created. The chaos in the muggle world had spread to the magical one as well as some witches and wizards were taken to concentration camps after they lost their wands and were mistaken for muggles.

Using the confusion and fear that had spread throughout the world, Grindlewald went to England and recruited the Black and Greengrass families as well as many non-noble Dark families that lusted for power. The battles between the Aurors and Grindlewald's forces had been hidden by Hitler's bombing of England. Then the unthinkable occurred. And old friend and collogue of Grindlewald's, one Albus Dumbledore, killed the Dark Lord in a dual. The once great forces of Grindlewald were rounded up in the following confusion and disorder caused by his death. Among them were five Black and thirteen Greengrass family members. From that moment on the Dark families, both noble and non-noble, were looked upon with mistrust and disdain.

That distrust had never left Mad-Eye-Moody, and his paranoia had only grown. Many people thought he was crazy, but he knew he wasn't. He had been one of the Aurors that had arrested five of the Greengrass members, and as it turned out in later investigations, killed three others in battle. The Greengrass family was large, with almost sixty members, and they weren't known for being forgiving. Moody had fended off close to two hundred assassination attempts by hit-wizards hired by the Greengrass family. The only reason they had tried assassination was because Moody was a war hero and was therefore politically untouchable. The one thing Moody had learned in all his years was that the Noble and Vengeful House of Greengrass were never to be crossed unless it was absolutely necessary. When the body of one of its lesser-known members showed up dead, he knew all hell was going to break loose. The Greengrass family still had the power to back up their noble name and the manpower to wield it in a deadly way. Someone was going to pay. On the other hand, inbreeding hadn't done anything for their intelligence, so the person who would end up feeling their wrath probably wasn't the one responsible. Moody checked the wards on his home one more time from his station in his cottage basement. He sighed and took a swig from his flask. It was going to be a long month.

Joseph Lancaster was one of the most unassuming muggleborns wizards you could ever meet. His grades were just good enough to graduate and he hadn't made enough pureblood friends to manage on his own in Wizard society. For several years after Hogwarts, he went through what many of the underclassmen called the "Period of Understanding." During this time he tried as hard as he could to make a living in the Wizarding world. In three years he finally realized it was impossible. He then left the wizarding world and returned to the muggle world. It was a difficult time for him, working a low-end job while trying to catch up the muggle education that he had abandoned.

In five years he gained entrance to a public college. He had still been trying to figure out where to go from there when the Aurors broke down his wards, apparated right in front of him, and stunned him. They grabbed him, in only a wife beater and red boxer shorts, and apparated away, leaving an empty run down apartment with a blaring TV. It would be five days until he would be reported missing by his neighbors who broke down his door to turn off said television.


End file.
